Changing Fate
by Carina1
Summary: Could Joren have been saved from his fate in squire?
1. The Past

Hey guys any characters you recognize belong to Tamora Pierce. I hope you enjoy this piece. And there are more chapters of course. I'm also working on Trying Times and Aurora...*cough* go read them *cough* Um if you want to use my characters email me and ask me please. Enjoy!!!!  
Joren sauntered down the hall with an arrogant expression on his face. He couldn't wait until midwinter to be knighted. He was tired of running silly errands for Sir Paxton. Ironically it reminded him of the hazing as a page. A frown crossed his features. That had all changed once the Lump had come. Damn girl keeping us from our fun, he thought as he turned the doorknob to his room. He smirked, Oh well, she won't make it through the ordeal...then we'll finally be rid of her. Joren pushed open his door and made a grab for his dagger when he saw a figure by his desk. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded.  
Startled by his sudden appearance Miara dropped the cup causing it to shatter, "Oh! I'm so sorry! Here I'll pick it up!" Desperately she started to pick up the shards and gasped when she was hauled up roughly by her arm. "I'll get an answer or I'll slit your throat. Who are you?" he asked angrily. Miara struck with fear, stared into his ice blue eyes, "M...M...M'lord doesn't recognize me, does he?" she stuttered with fear. She had been hoping to have more time to fix up his room and convince him to let her stay. Joren continued to glare and tightened his hold on her, "I'll give you until the count of three to answer my question and then I'm going to turn you over to my knight master. One, two.."   
"It's Miara!. Teren's daughter!" Miara cried, wincing in pain from his grip. This was not going the way she had planned. "He..he was the blacksmith m'lord and me mum was one of the cooks. Surely ye remember don't ye?" she pleaded with him. Oh Mithros what will I do if he doesn't remember? Joren drew in a sharp breath and involuntarily tightened his hold on her arm. Grimacing in pain she tried to pull away, "Please m'lord yer hurtin' me."   
"Oh." Immediately he let go of her arm and she stumbled into the desk. Miara tried not to tremble as he studied her seeming to be in a stupor. "What are you doing here?" he asked finally. Miara tried to meet his gaze but her courage failed and she kept her eyes by his feet. "I come to serve ye, m'lord," she whispered. "You what?!" Joren bellowed. "Just how did you get here? Did my parents send you?" Miara shook her head, "No m'lord they didn't. I walked here on my own." Joren stayed silent a moment before advancing on her, his eyes filled with anger, "You ran away?! Why did you come to me you stupid wench?!!" he yelled. Automatically Miara threw up her arm in defense, "Please m'lord! Don't hit me! I'll go if I must!" she cried in panic. "Pathetic imp, I'm not going to waste my energy striking you," he growled as he grabbed her hand and turned it palm up, "You're bleeding. Get yourself to the healers before you bleed on my things." Miara looked at the blood pooling in her hand, cut from the shards of the broken cup, "But m'lord the healers cost money and I haven't got any," she said quietly as she hung her head. Joren snorted in contempt and angrily threw a copper at her from his change purse, "Take this and get out of my sight for awhile." When she didn't move he shouted, "Now!" Quickly Miara left the room.  
Joren sank down on the edge of his bed putting his head in his hands. He would have thrown the imp out if she hadn't have been Teren's daughter. Teren was more of a father than the one who ruled Stone Mountain Fife was. From the time he was little Joren loved to go to Teren's shop and watch him make things. When he was older Teren even let him make some horseshoes. Although many had ended up twisted and deformed, Teren had praised his efforts. Because of this Joren had learned much about metal craft and weaponry so he was able to pick out well made weapons when he went into Corus. Teren's wife, Ingrid always gave him sweets and had a kind word for him every time she saw him. Even when he would do something wrong she was gentle in her scolding. Joren remembered a child now, obviously Miara. He remembered being allowed to hold the new baby when he was three, and how important he felt to be allowed this great honor. Now at nineteen all the memories came flowing back to him from the past. During his early years the times playing with Miara were his happiest. They went on heroic adventures and always saved the kingdom before the day was over. Until he was about six they had been playmates. That was when his parents started caring who he was around. After all, they were nobility and nobility did not spend free time with servants. When he'd refused to stop playing with Miara he had the idea beaten into him. Subsequent beatings followed after he had been caught sneaking out to play with her. Finally Joren's parents had the girl sent away to work for relatives. Even then Joren gave her mother and father childish letters to give to her when they visited their daughter. Once again his parents found out and Joren hadn't been able to sit down for weeks following their punishment. He wasn't allowed any contact with Miara's parents and his father shoved him into lessons to keep his mind from her. Eventually he forgot all about her, or at least blocked her from memory. By watching his own family Joren learned women were weaker, frivolous, and stupid in the mind. The women in his own family were second class and that's the way it was supposed to be. They ate after the men, waited on the men and were obedient. The consequences were harsh if that was not followed. Joren never second-guessed his father after this notion was stuck with him.  
Joren came out of his revelry and glanced at the few shards still left on the ground. He snorted and picked up the rest of them gingerly. Women, always making a mess, he thought. Suddenly the whole notion of Miara coming to serve him seemed ludicrous to him. He laughed until his sides hurt and tears rolled down his cheek. "By Mithros the imp is crazy." Still chuckling he started his homework figuring he'd send the girl back to let his parents deal with. She was a runaway and a sneak and obviously couldn't be trusted. She's lucky I'll pay to have her transported back, he thought, I could have made her walk.  
  
Well what did ya think? There's a box at the bottom to tell me...hehe *hint hint* Anywhoo I'm off to Scotland next week so don't expect anymore posts until after the first Friday in October. Have a wonderful week! Oh yeah my email is Corie_Q@hotmail.com  



	2. The Decision

Okay guys here's the next chapter. Sorry it took me awhile but my computer decided to eat my other copy so I had to retype it. Silly computers...grr... Anywhoo anything you recognize belongs to Miss. Pierce. Oh yeah I also did put in spaces and indentions as I have in the others but I don't know if they'll show up or not. And I did put them in the other stories. I honestly don't know why they didn't show up. If anyone knows please tell me. Sorry one final thing. This is a good site to visit. I've posted on it and it has lots of really good info. It's http://webcathy.com/tortall/fanfiction.html. Now I'll let you read :)  
  
Miara was ready to sob. She'd gotten lost on her way to the healers and couldn't find her way back to Joren's room. Not that that would be any better, she thought bitterly, he's changed so much. He's no the bright eyed boy I used to romp in the mud with. Miara frowned, lost in thought, So much bitterness locked up him. She wondered if the hardened walls around his heart could ever be broken. She looked down at her hand she'd covered with a strip of her dress. No things were definitely not going as planned. Blindly she turned a corner, crying out when she ran head on into someone. Two someones actually she saw when another hand steadied her. "Oh my! I'm dreadfully sorry sir," she gasped as she looked up for what seemed like forever into striking green eyes. His companion clapped him on the back and laughed, "That's Nealan for you. Always off in a dream, never paying attention to where he's going," the even bigger fellow said, brushing a lock of red hair out of his eyes. Nealan rolled his eyes and said, "Don't call me Nealan, Cleon." Miara, after a stressful day was glad to laugh but winced when her hand reminded her what she was supposed to be doing. Clutching it she asked, "Dreadfully sorry to inconvenience you sirs, but m'lord sent me to the healers and I've lost my way and I was wondering if perhaps-" she broke off when Nealan grabbed her hand and gently removed the cloth. "What happened?" he asked as he studied the dry blood and cuts. "Oh just some silliness on my part," she replied as she watched green light flicker from his fingers and raised a brow as the cuts faded. "Thank you sir! Here let me pay you," she said as she started to hand him the copper. "Think nothing of it," he replied and she smiled in relief, "Thank you again. Now m'lord won't be so angry with me. Could one of you possibly tell me where Joren of Stone Mountain's room is located?"   
  
"Joren?!!" the red-haired Cleon asked in surprise, "Why in Mithros' name would you want to know where his room is?" Miara blinked in confusion, "Well I come to serve him, He's m'lord," she replied. "What?" they cried in unison. Nealan placed an arm around her shoulder, "Poor girl. No wonder your hand was cut. You're lucky you aren't with the Black God. Come, Cleon and I will take you someplace safe where he can't ever hurt you again." Miara pulled away from him, "What are you talking about? That's a preposterous idea! He would never hurt me! M'lord is one of the kindest people I know. He wouldn't dare harm anyone!" Even as she spoke those words Miara knew she was wrong by the looks Cleon and Nealan gave each other. He's done bad things, she thought, perhaps I shouldn't be here. But then her resolve strengthened and she looked at them squarely, "Please sirs if you could tell me the way I would be much appreciative," she told them. After all, she added silently, I haven't anyplace else to go. Nealan looked her over for a moment before responding, "Follow this hall and take the next two lefts and finally a right." Miara curtsied and hurried on her way.  
  
When she reached Joren's room she found him sitting calmly, writing at his desk. Miara closed the door behind her, uncertain if she should speak or not. "You can't stay," he said in a cold voice not turning his head at all, "I'll have the next traders caravan take you back to Stone Mountain." "But m'lord!" she cried and moved towards him, "You can't send me back!" He snorted and kept his eyes on his work. Desperately she grabbed his arm wanting him to look at her, "M'lord, please! My family's gone and your father will kill me if I go back. Please don't turn me away!" Joren yanked his arm away in disgust. "It's your own fault. You shouldn't have run away You deserve whatever punishment you get," he laughed at her, "Just get out of my sight you stupid girl." Joren turned back to his work. Miara stood in a stunned silence but finally turned and started towards her pack but suddenly remembered the money he'd given her and held out the copper to him. "M'lord, here's the money ye gave me. I didn't need it," she said softly. Joren snapped his head up to look at her. "Why didn't you keep it?" he demanded. Miara took an involuntary step back from his accusing eyes, "I...it's not mine...why should I keep it?" Joren stood up and snatched the coin from her hand as if to make sure it was really there. "But servants always lie, cheat and steal. It's common fact," he stated somewhat bewildered. Miara couldn't help herself, she laughed. "Really m'lord whomever told ye that was full of poppycock. Ye of all people should know my mother and father raised me better than that." Shaking her head she grabbed her pack and headed towards the door. "Wait," he said quietly, "you can stay. For now." Miara, about to ask about his sudden change in decision, turned and looked at him. Upon seeing the uncertainty of his decision written on his face she thought better and curtsied, "Thank you m'lord."  
  
Joren lay awake long into the night listening to the steady rhythm of breathing coming from his closet. It bothered him that she had given the coin back to him. Along with the notion that women were weaker and stupider, he had been taught that servants were thieves. She's just a fluke in that rule, he thought as he turned over and closed his eyes, just like that Yamani Lump.  
  
Hope you guys liked it! I'd love reviews so I know how this story is going. Have a good week!  
  



	3. Dawning of a New Day

***Okay guys here's the next chapter. Sorry it took so long but between FFN messing up and the wonderful place the government wants us to go to, aka, school I haven't had time to post the new chapter. Thanks to all you guys who reviewed! I really appreciate it. Oh yeah again if any of you know how to do italics and different fonts when converting the file to txt. Could you please tell me? Have a wonderful week!***

Wow…I wrote this chapter a long time ago, seeing as I'm in college and that note was from high school. Hope you enjoy it.

The next morning instead of awakening to the usual chill of his room Joren awoke to the warmth of a fire, a cheerful humming, and the aroma of a warm cider drink. 

Miara looked over from her cleaning and smiled, "Good morning m'lord. I've poured warm wash water for you and soon as your done dressing I've a warm drink for you." 

Joren snorted and rolled over, closing his eyes. He wasn't a morning person and he hated people who were cheerful this early in the day. "Mmmf!" he cried as he was hit in the face with his spare pillow. 

"M'lord!" Miara said grinning down at him, "Tis time to get up. You best hurry or you shall be late. I've already heard some of the other boys going down to the mess." That got him moving.

He swung out of bed and shoved her out of the way, "Then get out of my way wench," he growled as he made his way to the washroom grabbing his clothes along the way. Once there he changed and splashed warm water into his face. Then he turned and examined himself in the mirror. Instead of seeing the handsome youth others saw, he saw a failure. _'Stupid oaf_,' he thought to himself, _'What would father say if he knew I was letting the girl stay_.' Joren turned away from his reflection knowing his father would call him weak and pitiful. A disgrace to the family name. Exiting he found a cup of warm cider thrust into his hands. 

Before he could yell at her, Miara said, "Sit. You have time. There's no need for this sourpuss attitude. Perhaps I should throw you in the mud. You always seemed to be nicer when you were covered in mud." 

Joren about choked on the cider when she made reference to their childhood antics. He stood and slammed the cup onto his desk causing some of the drink to spill over, "Don't you ever speak of that! I was stupid to ever mingle with servants," he spat at her. Ignoring her hurt look he stormed past Miara to his door saying over his shoulder, "I expect my room clean when I return." And without waiting for a response he left for the mess.

After the midday meal, Joren introduced Miara to Paxton. They exchanged pleasantries and then Miara went about her work. "Joren will you come to my room please?" Paxton asked, although there was only one answer. 

Joren nodded and followed Paxton back to his room, "What did you wish to see me about?" he inquired. 

Paxton rubbed a hand through his brown hair and fixed his gray eyes on Joren. "You had best treat her well Joren. I know what happens when boys have female servants. Many end up taking advantage of them. I don't care if you are my squire, if I find out of any mistreatment I won't hesitate to bring you to the Court of the Goddess. Is that understood?" he asked Joren.

Joren laughed, "As if I would want to actually fraternize with a..a servant! What gave you that idea?" 

"I know your position about women. You hardly respect them. Look what you did to Mindelan's servant a few years back. You're lucky you are still able to try for your shield!" 

"Sir, that was necessary. I can't believe they still let her take the examinations. Such a pity this country is coming to.." he broke off when Paxton grabbed him by the tunic and pulled him close. 

"You listen and you listen well, Squire. You had best adjust your attitude and learn some respect or you have a good chance of never making it out of those chamber doors," Paxton told him angrily. Then he released Joren and strode out of the room. Joren straightened his tunic with shaking hands and walked back to his own room, with a step that was not as confident as it had been before Paxton's talk. Despite his best efforts to justify himself, Paxton's reference to the Chamber of Ordeal left Joren with chills.

Miara was humming to herself as she surveyed the room. Already things looked better. No dirty clothes lay on the floor, the bed was made properly with the pillows fluffed. Joren's desk was tidied and the room had been swept clean. Miara frowned though. Something about the room still bothered her. There was no personality. As far as she was concerned it might have been just any old room. She smiled and looked at the big rolled up canvas in her hand. 'That's about to change,' she thought as she gathered the hammer and nails she had persuaded the black smith to give her. Miara grabbed a chair and moved over to the blank wall. Starting to hum again she began to hang one side of the painting up. She had found the picture tucked against the wall when she had cleaned under his bed. Deftly she started working on the other side. As she was working she heard a crack. Looking down she realized one of the legs had almost split in half. 'Great,' she thought, 'and I was almost done.' She decided the chair could hold her for a little while longer as she tried to drive in the last nail. Just as she hit it one last time the head of it snapped off and her knuckles scraped against it. "Ouch! By the Black God!"

Joren heard Miara cry out and rushed in to see what was going on. His first surprise was that Miara was on a chair with her fist up to her mouth and a hammer on the ground. He stopped cold when he saw the painting she had hung. His mother had sent it to him his first year as a page. It depicted a young blond haired boy sitting at the base of a tree near the edge of a cliff watching a glorious sunset over the mountains. His mother had sent it along with a note that told him to look at this whenever he had a problem to think through. She'd written that it had a calming affect. On one of his father's few visits he'd ordered it to be thrown out, saying that the only way to solve problems was to fight it out. Joren had gotten a kick in the rear and was sure his mother had faired worse. Joren hadn't wanted to throw it out so he'd hidden it. Then when he'd moved into his squire room he still hadn't had the heart to throw it out. 

Coming back out of his reverie he surprised himself when he asked, "What happened? Are you alright?" 

Miara not having heard him come in spun around in surprise, unfortunately resting most of her weight on the side with the split leg. It let out a loud crack and before her mind could register it she was falling towards the ground. Suddenly she felt strong arms grab her and turned her startled eyes to look up at Joren. "Sorry m'lord. I ....I think I broke your chair," she said as it was first thing that popped into her head. 

Joren's mouth twitched into what suspiciously looked like a smile. "That's alright," he said as he set her down, "I've been looking for an excuse to give Sir. Paxton so I can go into town." 

Miara smiled with relief, "Finally! I was beginning to think you'd never warm up. After running into those fellows Cleon and Nealan I was worried that you'd turned out to be a cold hearted sadist like your fa...."she trailed off realizing she'd been about to insult his father. 

Joren stared at her a moment. "What about my father?" he asked coldly.


End file.
